


Subterranean Homesick Alien

by regularlordreckoner



Category: 3rd Rock from the Sun, Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 06:05:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7032268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regularlordreckoner/pseuds/regularlordreckoner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames suspects there's something out of this world about Arthur. As it turns out, he's not far off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Subterranean Homesick Alien

**Author's Note:**

> That's right, folks! This is the Inception/3rd Rock from the Sun crossover that no one asked for! The long and short of it is, I recently watched the entire show and realized there were a lot of Inception-y things floating around in there so I thought to myself...what if information officer Tommy Solomon came back to Earth and became point man Arthur? And, well, this was the result. Just a short little thing I did in one go, so be gentle and I hope you enjoy! :D

“You know what I find odd, darling?” Eames beings as he settles himself on the edge of Arthur’s desk.

“Why on Earth you think paisley and stripes go together? Oh wait, sorry, that’s what I find odd, go on,” Arthur says, barely glancing up from his work to acknowledge Eames’ presence. 

“Ever the polite one, you are,” Eames says with a smirk as he gets himself comfortable, crumpling a few of Arthur’s reports in the process. “Anyway, I find it rather odd that you, our dear point man, have virtually no past.”

Arthur’s pen stops in its tracks as he levels Eames with a glare. “That’s sort of the point of our line of work, Mr. Eames. Surely you know that by now or perhaps you care to live as carelessly as you dress. I, however, don’t fancy being chased around the globe. Well…more than I already am,” he amends with a flick of his eyes towards Cobb’s makeshift office in the warehouse they’re using.

“Yes, of course, darling but I’m not talking about the obvious records. We’ve all buried those quite well, I’m sure but…they’re merely buried, not destroyed. Only the best of the best will ever find my records and yet…when you met me you called me by my first name.”

Arthur swallows and looks back down at his report.

“Don’t misunderstand me, I was flattered you put forth such an effort and I needn’t blame you for doing the proper research on me, I am a thief after all. Paired with Cobb’s tendency towards poor judgement, well…no, I hardly blame you at all. Granted, I don’t fancy myself anywhere near as good at uncovering the past as you, I’ve found myself frustratingly in the dark when it comes to your past.” Eames pauses, as though he’s hoping Arthur will fill in the blanks, but Arthur remains still as he tries to calm himself.

“Do you not trust me, Mr. Eames?” he asks, his voice low.

Eames chuckles and shakes his head as he scooches a little closer, his thigh now brushing against Arthur’s stilled hand which is close to snapping the pen he’s holding.

“With my very life, Arthur, with my very life. No, this isn’t a question of your character but rather an itch of curiosity. It should come as no surprise that I find you utterly fascinating, truly. To be as young as you are, but so skillfully trained and intelligent, well…I find myself wondering just what corner of world you hail from. I wonder about your upbringing, about your education. And yet…your records only go back as far as your adolescence. It’s, forgive me, darling, but it’s almost as though you dropped out of the sky when you were a teenager. There’s also a gap in your college education, as though you dropped out, but odder still is the fact that you seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth at nineteen only to reappear at twenty-two. You joined the army not long after and a few years later and, well, here we are. But the rest is something of a pitch black void. Odd, isn’t it?” Eames asks and Arthur wishes he could slap the shit-eating grin right off the Brit’s face.

Instead, he keeps himself in check. Because whether Eames realizes it or not, his choice of wording could not be more apt.

With a trembling hand, he puts his pen down. He gathers his papers into one neat pile and stacks them in the center of his desk before rising. He buttons his waistcoat as he does and carefully skirts around Eames who’s looking at him now with something like concern in his eyes, although Arthur doubts the man’s capable of such an emotion.

“If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Eames,” he says before calmly striding towards the bathroom.

Once inside, his knees hit the tile as he empties the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl.

There’s no way…there’s just no way Eames can know or even suspect. He’s just being nosy, that’s all. It’ll pass. Once he can’t figure anything out, he’ll get over it and move on to something else. Something that hopefully doesn’t involve Arthur. It’s what he tells himself, at any rate, as he wipes a shaky hand across his mouth. Of all the human experiences, this still remains one of his least favorite.

He spends a few minutes longer in the bathroom and only exits once he pokes his head out and can’t immediately spot the forger lounging about, waiting to ask more prying question.

Arthur tells Cobb he’s leaving early for the day, to which Cobb barely acknowledges him as he tinkers with the PASIV.

Once back at his hotel Arthur flings himself down onto the bed and stares at the ceiling, wishing like hell he could call home and speak to his family. He knows it’s impossible, not to mention forbidden. He instead curls up on his side and eventually falls into a restless sleep where visions of Ohio find him.

_____________________________________________________________________ 

It’s three years and five jobs later. Eames is brought on as the forger and Arthur actually feels something like relief. The job feels like a disaster waiting to happen, but Cobb insists it’s the only thing that will get him home. With Saito’s promise hanging over their heads Arthur begrudgingly decides to help. In spite of his trepidation, he knows they need Eames. That he needs… Well, that’s a thought he tries not to linger on too much. For now, he’s just glad that Eames never pressed the point of his past again. 

It’s only after all is said and done and Arthur’s grabbing his bag off the carousel that he turns to find Eames waiting, his own bags already on a cart.

He raises an eyebrow in Arthur’s direction and Arthur finds himself placing his belongings on top of Eames’.

They stroll through the airport, undisturbed, as Robert Fischer heads in the opposite direction talking rapid fire on his cell phone to his godfather, who seems to be shouting on the other end.

Arthur smiles ruefully and glances at Eames out of the corner of his eye. “Do you think it’ll really stick?” he asks as they step outside to wait for a cab.

“The optimist in me says most definitely. The realist says let’s give it some time and see if Saito comes for our heads. For now, though…I’ve got a hotel room if you’d care to join me for a celebratory drink?”

Arthur wants to comment that no one else seems to be joining them, not even Eames’ good friend Yusuf, but he instead accepts the offer and tries not to read too much into it.

It’s only once they actually arrive that shit hits the fan. Arthur shouldn’t have let his guard down, he realizes after finishing his fourth glass of wine while Eames has barely touched his first.

“So…” Eames begins, almost cautious even though Arthur knows that’s not his style.

“So…” Arthur replies, smiling dreamily in Eames’ direction.

“Did it hurt?” Eames asks and Arthur guffaws.

“Oh god, really Eames?” Arthur asks, his cheeks starting to burn. “Okay, I’ll play along…Did what hurt?” he asks as he takes another drink.

“Did it hurt when your spaceship crashed to Earth?” Eames asks, calmly and evenly with no hint of humor or playfulness to his voice.

It’s around this time that Arthur feels like someone just doused him in cold water.

“I…I’m sorry?” he asks, his hand clenching his wine glass tightly.

“You heard me, Arthur. Or should I say…Tommy?”

There’s a beat of silence and then Arthur tries to launch himself for the door, but Eames, being the sober one, is much quicker and wraps his arms around Arthur’s waist before bringing him not-so-gracefully to the hotel room floor.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Arthur,” Eames pants as he tries to keep Arthur from escaping.

“Too…late!” Arthur manages to choke out as Eames settles his weight on top of him.

“So, it’s true, then?” Eames asks excitedly. “You’re an alien?”

With his wrists pinned to the carpet and his air supply compromised, Arthur manages to only nod, his eyes closing in a wince as he prepares to be cut open and examined.

“That is…absolutely brilliant,” Eames says excitedly. “Alright, darling, I’m going to release you but you have to promise to not have another go at the door, hmm?”

Arthur manages another nod although he wishes he could just pass out instead, that would make this a lot easier.

Eames climbs to his feet and offers a hand out to Arthur who accepts it hesitantly. He’s pushed back into his chair and after a bit of shuffling about in the tiny kitchen Eames hands him a glass of water.

“So!” Eames exclaims as he settles back into his seat. “Tell me about your home planet. And why you came to Earth. And why you left. And why…”

“Wait, wait, no. I mean, I’ll tell you all that but first I want to know how the hell you found out,” Arthur asks, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden. Surely if Eames was able to find out it would only be a matter of time before some ex-employer would find out and turn him over to the government where he’d be put on display or turned into a science experiment.

“Well, it was no easy task, I’ll tell you that,” Eames says, looking rather proud of himself. “It took some doing, but I was able to put it all together. I started with what I knew. Your school records, of course. You’d forged the name on everything rather well, I was impressed. I went over the records again and again because as you well know, no such student as Arthur Cohen actually existed, at least not in Rutherford, Ohio. And then…I found it! The one you overlooked. At first I wasn’t certain. Surely not Arthur, not my Arthur…but there it was.“ Eames favors him with a grin, but Arthur’s impatience gets the better of him.

He feels itchy under his clothes knowing he left an open trace. He thought hiding in plain sight was usually the best option. His picture remained intact, but the name was changed. If anyone should ever try to find him they'd uncover a seemingly normal adolescence at an ordinary school in an ordinary town. Should anyone, apart from Eames evidently, do some additional poking around only then would they find out that nobody would know who the hell Arthur Cohen even was. He had taken care to fabricate a more extensive past for Arthur, but, he realizes with bemusement, it's not surprising at all that Eames was able to cut through it with a knife and expose the gaps which is what started this whole thing years ago. He makes a mental note to brush up on his skills before taking the bait, "Found what, exactly?" 

“Hootie,” Eames says gently.

“Hootie? I don’t know what you’re…” but Arthur stops. Of course. Of fucking course he forgot the goddamn owl.

“Do tell me, darling, how does an alien such as yourself become a hilariously adorable school mascot again?” Eames says, suppressing a smile.

“The fucking…gym coach. I didn’t have enough ‘school spirit’ so he made me…he made me be the fucking mascot and I got…weirdly into it for a moment but it all backfired when we started losing. I ditched the suit and tried to forget about it, but I guess I…did too good of a job because I didn’t bother to fix the yearbooks…Fuck,” Arthur buries his face in his hands as he pitches forward, his elbows digging into his knees.

“No need to fret, darling, I’m sure I’m the only one who knows. Not everyone’s as obsessed with you as I am. And if it helps, I amended the oversight myself, so you should be alright.”

Arthur looks up with such suddenness that he knows he’ll be feeling it in his neck for a week to come, but he can’t find it in himself to care.

“You…”

“Fixed it, yes. Now as far as anyone as hellbent on finding you out as I am will find themselves having a good chuckle over Arthur Cohen: school mascot. As far as anyone in our business would know…Tommy Solomon never existed.”

Arthur slumps back into his chair and chuckles tiredly.

“Well…I guess one good thing came out of this…” Arthur sighs. “So…what, you found out my real name and that my records only went back that far and you just…decided I was an alien? I could have been like…witness protection. Or a spy.” 

Eames says nothing, but favors Arthur with a, “you’re so cute when you’re bullshitting” expression and Arthur shakes his head. 

“Okay, so you…what, went to where we lived and…?” 

“And I met a lovely landlady, Ms. Dubchek, no?” 

“Oh god…” Arthur groans and tries to hide his face. 

“Oh yes, darling. I spoke with her at great length and avoided several propositions in the process, I might add, but she told me all about your…rather odd family. How you all always seemed to be experiencing everything for the first time. How jumpy you were. How her own daughter just…disappeared one day and came back sometime later rambling about being the queen of the universe and mother to an alien baby. It was a lot to take in, I assure you, but the more she talked the more I put everything together and well…this is the best part, darling,” Eames says and dammit all if he isn’t all but squirming in his seat. 

“What?” Arthur asks, but there’s no real bite to it. 

“Well…she let me see where you all used to live and…an attic, darling? Really?” 

“We didn’t know any better!” Arthur protests. 

Eames holds up his hands in surrender and smiles as he continues. “Easy mistake, I’m sure. But anyway, she showed me where you used to sleep and I found the most peculiar thing…” 

“Oh god…” 

“It was a report. A…mission log, yes?” 

Arthur takes a deep breath and tries to count to ten before responding with a curt nod. 

“I see. Well, you needn’t worry, darling, it was hidden very well. Had I not been so determined to find something I’m sure it would have gone unnoticed for quite some time, but…as it were I know you and I know how and where you like to hide things. In any case, it all became abundantly clear once I found it and everything fell into place.” 

Arthur waits until Eames smile has dissipated some, although it’s still too broad for his liking, before he speaks. “I…was the information officer. There were four of us and we all had jobs…well, three of us had jobs, and mine was to send back reports to the home planet so they’d know how our progress was going and so they could find out through us what Earth and what your people are like. We tried our best to fit in, but we…I guess we always kinda stuck out,” Arthur says, smiling fondly as he casts his memory back to all the wacky situations his family found themselves in. “Anyway, we…got called back sort of abruptly. Our mission was canceled so we threw a big party and then called it quits. We didn’t pack or get rid of anything, which…was actually pretty irresponsible now that I think about it, but we were all too caught up trying to remember what everything would be like and taking it all in one last time. I guess I…left behind some things I shouldn’t have, but you destroyed it, right?” 

“Of course, darling. It’s all taken care of. I did a sweep of the entire place and got rid of anything…unusual. I hope you’re not offended but I took the garden gnome for myself. He’s really a lovely decoration.” 

Arthur smiles and feels almost like crying, so he just nods and whispers a quiet ‘thanks’. 

“So, darling, you were going to tell me all about, well, you. Please, I’ve been waiting so long to know and don’t short me on the details.”

So Arthur tells him. He tells him everything. About the mission, about Ohio, about his crew members he still thinks of as family, even now.

He tells Eames about how his “uncle” Harry had a fashion sense that would put even Eames himself to shame.

He tells Eames about how his “aunt” Sally taught him everything about weapons and how to fight before he came back to Earth the second time.

He tells Eames about how his “father” Dick fell in love with an Earth woman named Mary who doesn’t remember any of them. He knows because when he came back he found her, still teaching anthropology at Pendleton, and how she merely thought him a perspective student and how it broke his heart in a way knowing that his life from before was suddenly just…gone. How his family was now lightyears away and how hard it had been keeping his real identity a secret for all these years.

He tells him about how he picked the name Arthur after his family’s favorite movie, Arthur 2: On the Rocks which makes Eames laugh with delight. 

He even tells Eames about the time his family went to a weekend murder mystery experience only, being new to that sort of things, they mistakenly thought it was all real. He tells him about how he suspected the butler who incidentally was also named Eames and who, at least for the sake of the play, was also English. Arthur confesses his rather frightening encounter may have had some influence in why he did such a thorough investigation of the real Eames who just laughs and says, “Oh, darling...” with such fondness that Arthur feels a little lightheaded. 

Eames listens with rapt attention and continues to prompt Arthur well into the night for more details about his life until Arthur finds himself running out of things to tell him.

When silence finally falls over them Eames only smiles and reaches for Arthur’s hand.

“So you’re…right now, you’re on a mission, yes?”

Arthur nods and feels his breath hitch as Eames’ thumb swipes over the back of his hand.

“For how long this time?” Eames asks, his gaze a little more guarded than it was a moment before.

“I’m not sure, really…” Arthur says slowly as he leans in a little closer. “There’s…really no specific objective this time, they just…they were impressed with my work the last time. They said I was the most competent member of the team and that my skills could still be of use so they brought me back. Every now and then I send in another mission report so…I guess as long as they’re satisfied with my work I get to stay. Why do you ask?”

Eames smiles, genuine this time, and Arthur feels their knees touching now as he moves in a little closer.

“I was wondering how much time you and I might…that is, if you want, I…I want to…spend time with you,” Eames, of all people, stammers.

“Is that so?” Arthur asks, his hand reaching out to touch Eames’ face. “In that case…there are still a lot of cultures and customs that I’ve yet to file reports on. It could get dicey out there on my own. Maybe you’d…be interested in being my security officer?”

Eames answers him with a kiss.


End file.
